


Decision

by Melusine6619



Series: Nightingale Series [4]
Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-30
Updated: 2012-08-30
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/499925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melusine6619/pseuds/Melusine6619
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Council of Elrond, Legolas makes a decision, and in Mirkwood his wife learns of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decision

Legolas stared out the window toward the east as he waited to speak with Lord Elrond. The Council was over. After a long day’s debate, the decision had been made. And so he too had made his.

He only hoped that Dulinneth would understand. 

As the last rays of sunset faded and dusk covered the land, he pictured his wife washing their babe and then nursing him to sleep, softly singing to him as she always did. Then she would wash herself, and when she was through, she would brush her hair until it shone. If he were home he would do it for her, let the heavy strands slide through his fingers as he worked the tangles free . . . 

He shook his head as someone spoke his name. He turned. “Yes?”

“Lord Elrond will see you now.”

Legolas nodded his thanks and strode forward through the door he’d been waiting outside for some time. His host rose from behind a large desk and waved him to a chair, but he declined and remained standing.

“What can I do for you, Prince Legolas?” 

“I want to volunteer for the Quest to Mount Doom.”

Lord Elrond said nothing for several moments, and Legolas held himself rigid, steady, his mind open. He understood without being told he was being weighed, measured, beneath the steady regard of the Half-Elf. 

“Why?”

He had not expected the question, having had his mind so thoroughly probed. 

“You think you failed in the mission given you to guard Gollum?” Elrond asked.

“Of course I do,” Legolas replied. That defeat still left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. He had lost good men that day, and all because his father had not been told the whole truth regarding that creature. “But that isn’t the only reason. Aragorn is a good tracker and Gandalf will be there of course, but there should be an Elf too, someone who can see and hear far.”

“And what of your father? What will he say? What of your wife and son?”

Legolas closed his eyes, filling his mind once more with Dulinneth’s image, her voice, her scent. And their child, already so like her in looks . . . 

“I do this for them,” he said, his voice thick. “I want my wife and child to know peace. I want my son to grow up and never know the shadow.” He rested his hands on the desk between them and leaned forward, his gaze fixed upon the Peredhel lord. “I have sworn to protect them.”

“And should war come to your own lands?” 

Legolas drew a sharp breath and stepped back, swallowing as a fist clenched his heart. It was rumored that Elrond could see the future, and he wondered what he knew, if the older Elf had seen anything. But Legolas knew himself that war could come to his home. And if it did he could not be there to protect Dulinneth or their child if he were far away. For a moment his resolve wavered, he should ride home, and stand between her and their foes as he always had. But who knew how many more battles they would face if darkness were not defeated once and for all. His father’s caverns were a fortress. Surely they would be safe there. They must be safe there. It was the only thread of hope he held, that they would be safe and he would see them again, when this was over. His eyes met Elrond’s again. 

“If we succeed on this Quest and destroy the Ring, surely Sauron cannot strike us again. Then I will know evil cannot harm them.” 

Elrond leaned back in his chair and studied him again. Legolas waited, expecting to be dismissed as too young, too inexperienced, too swayed by thoughts of his beloved to hold true to the mission. 

“I’ll think about your request,” Elrond replied. “There should be a representative of our people, after all.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” Legolas murmured, and pressed his right hand to his chest in salute, then turned and left. 

He moved back to the window he had been standing at before, where far away he could see the Hithaeglir rising, dark and menacing. Dulinneth’s fea touched his lightly, questioning, and he pressed his hand to his heart as he sent his love for her rushing back.

“For you, dulind nin,” he whispered. “For you.”

 

****

“Dulinneth.”

She turned from the window in the main room of the House of Healing when she heard the king’s voice, her heart stopping for an instant when she saw the expression on Thranduil’s face. Surely not? She felt Legolas still, warm and vibrant in her soul. There had been no word, but that meant nothing, only that perhaps he had not had a chance to send a message. Surely Thranduil did not mean to tell her she was wrong? She choked back the fear that bubbled up inside her. 

“Legolas?”

“There’s a message for you,” the king replied, his voice gentle. “I wanted to bring it myself.”

For the king to act as messenger could only mean one thing, and Dulinneth began to tremble as dark dread worked its way up her spine again. “It’s true then? He’s d--?”

“No. No, forgive me, child. The message is from Legolas.” He steered her to a chair and urged her to settle into it, then handed her a sealed letter. “Read it.”

Dulinneth stared at the acorn and beech signet pressed into the wax, hands shaking. For a moment she did not want to read it, for surely it must contain bad news. She glanced up at the king, but he merely nodded encouragement. Dulinneth wet her lips with her tongue, then broke the seal and began to read.

She was grateful Thranduil had insisted she sit down.

My Darling,  
I love you, and miss you, and our son. So much. Before you read on, know that. Hold that thought in your heart as I hold my binding ring and the lock of your hair against mine.  
I swore long ago that I would do anything in my power to defeat the darkness, so that you would know a world without it. At the time I did not know I loved you, only that I would do this for you. The time has now come for me to fulfill that vow.  
I’ve volunteered for a mission that will take me from you for some time. I do not know how long. I only know that I must do this, for you, for Belon . . .

Dulinneth’s eyes blurred and she closed the letter tightly in her hand. A larger one closed over hers and she blinked back the tears as she looked up. But they came anyway, along with a sob that tore its way past her lips. She felt herself being drawn to stand and did not resist, even as the king pulled her against him and patted her back.

“Now, what’s this? Why do you cry?”

She blinked rapidly and pushed against the king’s chest, horrified, and searched for the handkerchief she kept tucked into her sleeve. The king held out his own snowy one and she took it, dabbing at her eyes. “His tone frightens me,” she whispered.

“Yes,” Thranduil replied, taking her hands in his. “I received a similar note, though he couldn’t give any details, for fear of the Enemy, so I know not where he goes or what he does, only that he does what he feels he must. For you, for my grandson, for all of us.”

“I know he does. He would never shrink from danger.” It was more than his duty, it was who he was, and she was proud of her strong warrior husband. “Yet I fear for him.”

“I know,” Thranduil murmured, not unkindly, “but would you send Legolas on this mission he undertakes, walking into darkness, into battle perhaps, with such distress in your heart and mind?”

She straightened, her eyes meeting the king’s somber blue. Whatever Legolas meant to do, wherever he meant to go, it must be important. And dangerous. Life here was perilous too, but they both understood what he fought against. Who knew what awaited him now, and it was that uncertainty that squeezed her heart. 

But no, that was not the way of a warrior’s wife, to cringe in fear as her mate rode forth to battle. She shook her head, determination filling her. If she fretted out of fear for his life he would feel her worry for him and perhaps be distracted. She knew as well as Legolas did that distraction could be as deadly as any Orc blade. Dulinneth would not be the cause of his death, not if she could help it. 

“No. No I would not. I will be brave.”

“I know you will, child.” He smiled kindly. “Legolas says you’re the bravest woman he’s ever known, for you took him on as husband, knowing how hard it would be to be married to a prince and soldier.”

“It has been no hardship,” Dulinneth answered. “I love him.” 

Thranduil’s expression softened even more. “And I’m glad he had the good sense to marry you.” Then he cleared his throat and stepped back. “You’ll be at dinner of course.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The king’s eyes twinkled, and then he winked before turning and walking away.

When he had gone Dulinneth sat back down and smoothed out the letter she had crumpled in her hand. She read it through, once, twice. Again. And then she carefully folded it and tucked it into a pocket of her gown. She bit her lip and wiped at her eyes. No more tears. When he had returned, she would cry again, tears of happiness, but not now. Now was the time to be resolved and steadfast.

Now was the time to watch and wait.


End file.
